


The Principal Awards

by memeberd



Category: Captain Underpants Series - Dav Pilkey
Genre: Mr. Reeted (OC)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 20:00:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13465500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memeberd/pseuds/memeberd
Summary: "Ok so since CU isn’t getting an academy award or w/e I’m gonna write a fic where George and Harold give Krupp a worst principal in the world award here I go" - Me





	The Principal Awards

In their sixth and final year of attending Jerome Horwitz, George Beard and Harold Hutchins noticed that their principal was being _especially_ hard on them. “I’m giving you stupid kids some extra discipline so you’ll be ready to handle middle school!” Was what he said, but the two boys knew that for whatever twisted, sick, malicious reason, Mr. Krupp was going to miss those boys, and was simply doing everything in his power to breathe down their necks any chance he got.

George is the kid taking up the left half of the doorway to Mr. Krupp’s office, and Harold is the kid taking up the right half. They stubbornly pushed through, nearly bruising their shoulders with wrinkled noses and repressed chuckles as they left.

“YOU BOYS’LL _NEVER_ CHANGE!” Mr. Krupp shouted from his desk. “NO MIDDLE SCHOOLERS GO THROUGH DOORS LIKE THAT, YOU’LL GET EATEN ALIVE! NOW COME BACK IN AND GO THROUGH THAT DOOR LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE!”

George and Harold looked flatly at eachother and did what they were ordered to do. Usually Krupp would let them slam the door in his face mid-yell, but if they did that this year, they’d get detention with him for a week.

“Permission to slam the door!” Said Mr. Krupp once they were out of his office. And slam the door they did. The door was thrown open immediately by Mr. Krupp who had seemed to have just blipped behind the door the second he thought of it. “TOO HARD! You boys are in for it now; detention for TWO WEEKS! SEE YA THEN!” And then he slammed the door twice as hard.

“I actually want to tear my ears out.” Said George.

 “Not recommended.” Harold said. They started to walk, and they wouldn’t stop until they got home. “Atleast school’s basically out. Man, who knew you could end up in the principal’s office just for looking at him the wrong way!”

 “Yeah, what’s his deal?” George asked. “Why’s he getting _worse?!”_

 “This _is_ our last year here, and I heard time goes by really fast for adults, maybe Mr. Krupp thinks he’s gonna miss us?” Said Harold.

 “No way!” Said George. “Why would Principal Krupp miss us? We never did him any good!”

 They thought long and hard about it, and neither of them spoke up until a few minutes after they were safe inside their treehouse.

 “Maybe, somewhere deep deep down inside of him, Captain Underpants still there and he’s trying to spend more time with us before we’re gone forever.” Harold suggested.

 George thought about that a moment. “No, that couldn’t be right. Hey, maybe we should make something for him! To remember us by, after we graduate!”

 “Yeah! We could make him, umm, what would we make him?”

 “I know what to do.” George said with a cunning smirk.

 George and Harold talked Heidi into letting them use two containers of her old play doh, in exchange for a raise in her share of the Treehouse Comix Inc. Revenue, and went back to their treehouse for sculpting. After kneading the two globs of colored dough together, George and Harold shaped the nicest reddish-brown goblet they could. Once it was in tip-top shape, George gave it a good smash with his fist. The two boys stepped back from their table to admire their work, leaning into eachother with smiles on their faces.

 “That was so methodical of you, George.” Harold said. “You can _just_ tell that it was supposed to be something before it got crushed.”

 George nudged Harold’s head with his own in silent thanks. “What should we write on it?”

 “How about ‘#1 WORST Principal in the Whole Wide World Award?’”

“PERFECT! That’s perfect, can you do it? You’re better at bubble letters than I am.”

 Harold flared his nostrils, but he complied.

 “Hey George how do you spell ‘principal?’” Harold asked, pine green marker in hand.

 “P-R-I-N-C-I-P-L-E”

 Harold turned to copy it down.

 “NO WAIT!” George stopped Harold before he touched the marker to their intellectual property. He thought for a second before coming to his conclusion. “Actually yeah that’s right.”

 And then, they left it out to dry.

 ---

 At the start of detention, George pulled their gift for Mr. Krupp out of his backpack and set it on the table they sat at.

 “What if Mr. Krupp just throws it away?” Harold asked quietly, hunching secretively over the dry chunk of play doh with George.

 “Then we gave our baby sister and editor a raise simply out of the goodness of our hearts. Also I thought we already knew he was gonna get really mad and throw it away.” George whispered back.

 Mr. Krupp silently entered the detention room, and before he sat down to begin his hawkish supervision of George and Harold, he heard them whispering. They were _hiding_ something from him.

 “What are you bubs craning over the table for?!” Mr. Krupp asked as he tried to arch over the boys for a better look at whatever it was.

 “It’s a surprise!” George snapped. He and Harold hunched more over the gift so their principal couldn’t see.

 “I hate surprises!” Mr. Krupp grumbled, so determined to see what the tricksters were hiding that his gelatinous stomach started to press into their backs.

 “Back up!” Harold said.

 “Don’t you talk back to me! I’ll just take it if you’re gonna be disrespectful!”

 Mr. Krupp wrestled the craft out of George’s and Harold’s hands. The boys looked up to see him staring at the side that wasn’t labeled. “What is _this_ hunk of junk?!”

 “You’re lookin’ at it backwards!” Said George.

 “Yeah, turn it around.” Harold added.

 Mr. Krupp turned it around and his entire face stretched with offguardness as he read aloud. “#1 WORST Principal in the Whole Wide World Award?” He continued to stare at it. “What was this supposed to be before it got destroyed?”

 “It’s not destroyed.” Harold said.

 “We crushed it on purpose because we hate you.” George added with a pleasant smile.

 “You guys went through all that trouble just to show me how much you hate me?” Asked Mr. Krupp, looking down at George and Harold with an expression that could not stay neutral. The boys watched the corners of their principal’s mouth twitch upward in horror until there was a delighted smile splayed across Mr. Krupp’s face. “Mahahahahaha!” He cackled. “That is priceless. You boys know what else is priceless? GARBAGE.”

 Into the trash it went.

 While George and Harold were busy writing and rewriting “I will not make direct eye contact with my school superiors unless first spoken to by my school superiors.” until their assigned stack of fax paper was full, the janitor, Mr. Reeted, mosied into the classroom and plucked the garbage can off of the ground next to the desk Principal Krupp was sitting at and mosied back out of the classroom to empty it into his industrial rolling trash can. Mr. Krupp cooly eyed him as he came, but looked more anxious as he went. When Mr. Reeted was out the door, Mr. Krupp loudly got out of his desk, which got the attention of George and Harold. He looked surprised at how keen they were to see what he was doing, then he ignored them and ran out of the classroom saying, “Hey Olly! You won’t believe what _stupid_ thing these kids actually spent time on and tried to give to me!”

 Once Mr. Krupp was far enough away from George and Harold, he put a hand on the garbage can and held it in place before Mr. Reeted could empty its contents into his industrial garbage can. “What are you doing?” Mr. Reeted asked behind his wiry mustache.

 “I will give you one whole day off if you let me take something out of that garbage can.”

 Mr. Reeted continued to stare at him.

 “ _Fine,_ _three days._ Gimmie the garbage, Olly.”

 Mr. Reeted let go of the can and watched Mr. Krupp snatch out a hunk of dried play doh and hold it up in relief.

 “What _is_ that?” Asked Mr. Reeted, prompting Mr. Krupp to shove the worst principal award into his pocket.

 “Nothing. Enjoy your three days off.” Said Mr. Krupp, handing the can back to Mr. Reeted and reentering the classroom like nothing happened.

 The rest of detention went smoothly, the boys didn’t suspect a single thing of Mr. Krupp, and when their wrists started cramping from writing for so long, he told them to use their other hand. Wouldn’t kill some people to learn how to be ambidextrous anyway. Though he regretted that once they started laughing at eachother’s warped left-handed handwriting.

 When Mr. Krupp finally got back to his office, he quietly sat at his desk and reached into his pocket to set down the award he had been given. It sat right next to his name plate.

“That’s right.” Mr. Krupp said proudly. “I _am_ the worst principal in the whole wide world.”


End file.
